


Black and Blue

by moon_hedgehog



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Kinda, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 02:03:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14990378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_hedgehog/pseuds/moon_hedgehog
Summary: perhaps this is the stagnation of life.





	Black and Blue

**Author's Note:**

> ~~when you want to write domestic fluff about them but all you can is~~

Lieutenant Hank Anderson has been having nightmares lately.

It's kind of not hey-I will-forget-this-dream-by morning half-gray, devoid of shades dreams that visited him last part of his life, whether from perpetual drinking, or back pain. Rather, it all resembles chaotic smears of black and blue on a mutilated canvas; the feeling of pain somewhere in the nape and cold fingers on cheeks; barely perceptible sighs-sounds, and rustle of pistols. By the middle of the night, he wakes up in a sweat and examines his bedroom as if sees it for the first time. Somewhere in the living room, on the folding bed, has settled himself Connor, and at his feet is settled Sumo; and not that both of them need to sleep – the deviant isn't used yet, and just let this dog tear down whole house – but they're trying.

If Hank will get up and go there, he'll see them both – alive, healthy, and nothing is threatening them. Hank never gets up because he's afraid of the continuation of nightmares.

 

Connor's fingers are so thin, it seems too easy to break them. He wraps his own cheekbones with them and stares blankly at the screen of an old TV. It's so strange, it shouldn't be so at all; in fact, the revolution's going well, and smart reporters don't stop peppering androids with recognitions of humanity. Only when Hank looks at his partner, he involuntarily understands that some part of him remained there – in the snowy, dead garden, of which Connor dropped one day. Yes, he could get out. He could return and ask for a (temporary) sanctuary.

His skin is still same cold, and the diode on his temple shines with crystality, and somewhere deep in the codes-wires of his software have left suppressing outward emotions errors. But he's watching the news, Sumo licks his shoes and the cup of tea cracks in the Lieutenant's hands.

Everything in this house is too fragile for him.

 

A few nights later, one of his dreams looks surprisingly sharp and frozen, like a sepia painted photograph. Connor's eyes fade, from an open wound on his side flows too fucking lot of stupid blue blood, and he clings to Hank's wrists.

It's all nothing, just steel reflections on the edge of consciousness, but when he wakes up under the dawn rays – realizes that android is not at home and it  _ _frightens__. It frightens to shit, to nervously ticking clockwork of heart, to trembling hands. Connor is found in the backyard, instead of coin he's playing with one of the old razors. Of course he has a system crash. Of course he's not adapted to disobey creators. Of course Hank has absolutely no idea how to help him.

 

The next morning Lieutenant Hank Anderson hides his gun and all the blades in his house.

 


End file.
